


Scarlett Stormblood and the Dawn of Truth

by S_C_Craven



Series: Scarlett Stormblood [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Top Fred Weasley
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-12 06:26:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29880411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/S_C_Craven/pseuds/S_C_Craven
Summary: Scarlett has killed Cecilia Finch and learned a vital piece of information: her sister is alive. Now Scarlett is in a race against time to find her sister before Lord Voldemort does. With the burden of a mistake as children, it will take all Scarlett has to confront the truth. This book is the third and final installment in the Scarlett Stormblood series.Note: This story contains mentions of trauma, abuse, violence, and sexual content. Reader discretion is advised.
Relationships: Fred Weasley/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Scarlett Stormblood [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2098941
Kudos: 1





	1. Chapter One

"Scarlett! Come inside for dinner!" Scarlett's mother called from the kitchen of Storm Hall. Scarlett, who had been perched on the garden wall for the past thirty minutes, peeked out from underneath her lashes. A quick survey of the surrounding area proved that her mission was a failure. Scarlett huffed, scratching her cheek as she thought back to the methods she had read best attracted Bowtruckles. She was certain she had sat still enough, her legs asleep from being crossed at the ankles. 

Above her, the summer sky was fading into a deep blue. Insects sang around her as she kicked her heel against the wall. It was hopeless, she thought. Being better than Gabriel at anything was hopeless.

"Scarlett! Now!" her mother shot, this time her tone more heated. Her mother glared at her from the Dutch door as a shriek from Charlie sounded from behind her. Her mother gave her a warning look before disappearing inside. Huffing, Scarlett launched herself from the four-foot-high wall and clumsily stumbled into the brick pavers. 

She hurried inside, ducking through the door and pulling off her shoes. The kitchen was much warmer, a cool breeze occasionally billowing in from an open window. It smelled good in here, like home--Scarlett thought as she raced out of the kitchen and down the hallway to the dining room. Scarlett turned the corner, finding Gabriel, her mother, father, and Charlie all around the table. She paused for a moment, her eyes falling on one of two empty seats. 

"I'll go get Victoria," she said slowly, her eyes darting to her father who always was much more lenient with Victoria's whereabouts. 

"That won't be necessary, Scarlett," her mother shot as she spooned vegetables onto the plate in front of her. Scarlett paused for a moment, her bare, dirt-stained feet digging into the hallway runner. 

"I just th-" 

"Just sit down, Scarlett!" her mother snapped, a breeze bursting from the open window that looked over the front yard. It flickered the candles as Gabriel cleared his throat and gave Scarlett a pleading look. Scarlett took in a deep breath, considering if this should be one of those times where she threw a fit. Often, she could do that--and even more often, she could get her way. This time, however, Gabriel's eyes flipped between her and the seat, begging for her to sit. Just before her mother could say another word, Scarlett took a seat. 

"Well I had the best conversation with another Magizoologist at work today, he was telling me about how he managed to raise and domesticate a Graphorn," Scarlett's father started, his tone suggesting he was eager to break the tension. Scarlett looked up, interested. Before she could speak, Gabriel was already commenting on how foolish it was. Scarlett glared at him, catching her own reflection in the mirror. At twelve she stood almost as tall as her mother, her dark hair habitually confined in a braid with wild strands protruding from her head like she had been electrocuted. She noticed some dirt on her face, wiping it when her mother turned to assist Charlie. 

"I think it's-" Scarlett's comment was cut off by a bloodcurdling scream. It came from behind Scarlett, echoing throughout the foyer. Scarlett had jumped, her hand knocking her spoon to the floor. She flew sideways, scooping it up. Panic fell over Scarlett's face as she looked to her parents who both shared disinterested and unalarmed expressions. 

The scream continued, Charlie beginning to get fussy at the noise. Scarlett looked at Gabriel, her cheeks puffed in anger. 

"Maybe I shou-" Gabriel started, Scarlett barely hearing his voice.

"Do not move from this table." Winnie's voice cut through the scream like a knife. It continued, Gabriel giving her a look as Scarlett glanced at her father who was following her mother's lead. 

"She'll stop in a moment. No one moves from this table until they are finished." she spat with a stern expression, her hand curled around her fork so tightly her knuckles were beginning to whiten. Scarlett fought back tears as she began to force her meal down. The screams continued, all through dinner without a single soul responding. 

Scarlett woke, jolting slightly and forgetting where she was. In her line of vision, a tuft of orange hair shifted slightly. She was in bed, safe and able to breathe perfectly. Scarlett took on a deep breath, moving onto her back so she stared up at the ceiling of the loft she and Fred shared. 

Outside, she could hear a gentle breeze disturbing the wind chimes. Through a small window above her head, she could see the dark sky slipping into the blue hues of the impending dawn. She watched the ceiling as she fought to remember more than just broken bits and pieces from her dream. Scarlett had been at dinner with her family when Victoria started screaming. She was certain the dream had actually happened, she just wondered why it had taken so long to be remembered. Sighing, she stretched, her body aching at the injuries she had sustained less than a month before. 

Fred took in a sharp breath, Scarlett looking sideways to see he still slept. He probably would for at least another hour, Scarlett slowly slipping sideways out from under the stitched quilt that covered them. Fred turned again, his hand extending over where she would have slept. She watched his pale, veiny hand as she crouched next to the bed.

She then scooted over to the ladder where she nimbly climbed down. On the ground floor, it was cooler, Scarlett even shivering in her muslin nightclothes reserved for summer. She tiptoes across the room to the faucet where she took a hearty sip of water. Through the window, she could see the sky lightening, birds chattering excitedly for the day. Scarlett swallowed the water she had been holding, her throat still slightly aching though the bruises had fully healed the week before. 

Scarlett glanced back at the loft and then to the door where McGonagall's room and the bathroom sat. All was quiet, just as it should be in the world. Scarlett loved times like these in the late night and early mornings--when things were sacred and silent, beautiful and mysterious. 

When Fred's soft snores filled her ears, Scarlett donned her jacket from the hook by the door and slowly peeled open the door. When she could just squeeze through, she slipped into the early morning and avoided the ancient creak. Outside, the air was fresh and cool. Birds called and even the crickets still chirped. She could hear the stream that ran past the house, the sound of water bumping into rocks as if they were on a crowded train. Scarlett took the short path that lead out of the glen. 

Minutes later, she broke the treeline that bordered a large field. Green, dewy grass stretched towards the horizon--a perfect place to watch the sunrise. Scarlett fell onto her butt, the dew biting through her thin clothes as the sky began to transition into a yellow-green glow. Soon, the sun would rise and the whole world would be awake. In these few, gentle moments it was as if Scarlett could pass between worlds. She could go from this one to one where she and her sister were protected from reality--where Victoria always knew love. Scarlett wished it was that easy.

"Thought I'd find you out here," Scarlett jumped, looking sideways to see Fred strolling over to her with his hands in his pockets. He was wearing his shoes, sleep pants and a haphazardly buttoned shirt. He took a seat beside her, Scarlett looking back at the horizon just as the sun crested over it, bathing the land in warm orange light. 

"Oh I missed it," Scarlett said as Fred laughed and looked at her. 

"It's the sunrise, it happens every morning," he shot as Scarlett looked at him and gave him a playful shove. 

"I know that but what if it's the last one I ever see," Scarlett shot, knowing full well how uncomfortable talk of her death made Fred. He pretended to be unbothered as he snaked an arm around her shoulder. 

"It will be if you keep staring directly at it. Muggle scientists do know a thing or two," Fred said in a matter-of-fact tone as she let out an airy laugh. Fred watched her for a moment, the sunlight illuminating the tones of red in her hair. She looked ethereal--as if she didn't belong in this world. It was the only explanation he could muster for her.

"Well if I do go blind, I am confident you will stick around and be my guide," Scarlett said as she stood up and brushed herself off. Fred did the same, watching her as she took one last glanced at the sunrise. Scarlett sighed, scanning her eyes over the treeline in the distance. 

"We better get back before McGonagall wakes up," Scarlett started, glancing behind Fred to the mouth of the trail. 

"Do you think she sleeps as a cat or as a human?" Scarlett let out a scandalized cry, delivering a shove that Fred played up. He reached for her stomach, pinching her sides as she cried out in distress. Fred then pulled her I to him, placing a kiss on her neck. He was warm against the cool breeze that belted over the field.

"We'll never be invited back if you keep this up." Scarlett hissed as Fred barked out a laugh. 

"With the way things are going at the shop, I'll buy you your own damn cottage."


	2. Chapter Two

"Hurry up and finish so we can get going," Fred pushed as Scarlett downed her tea and poked at her toast. McGonagall had left for Hogwarts earlier that morning as she usually did once a week. Fred had wanted to take advantage of the empty cottage but something about it didn't feel right. Scarlett eyed the worn rucksack Fred had unlatched and tossed onto the table beside her.

"Are we going somewhere?" Scarlett shot as Fred began packing it with different food items from the small pantry. He nodded as she watched him moved back and forth.

"While you were napping yesterday, McGonagall and I ran to the village for some groceries. Well while I was there I managed to meet a bloke in a pub," 

"Yeah, however did you manage that?" Scarlett shot, narrowing her eyes playfully as he brushed her off. 

"As I was saying, he mentioned something about an old church about eight miles from here. So, I thought we should go check it out," Fred said as Scarlett stood and collected their dishes. She gestured to Fred who waved his wand absently as the dishes cleaned and flew back into the cupboard. 

"Eight miles? That's a lot of walking," Scarlett noted as Fred shrugged and sealed the rucksack. He put it over his shoulder and linked his hand in the strap.

"We'll get there by this evening," Fred assured as Scarlett looked back at him. 

"So we will be hiking back in the dark?" Scarlett shot with worry in her voice as Fred shook his head. 

"I thought we could spend the night. You know, camp out under the stars." Scarlett choked back a laugh. 

"What if we get murdered or mauled?" Scarlett asked, leaning against the counter. Fred walked over to her with a grin. 

"Don't worry, I'll protect you," Fred soothed, pushing a stray hair from her braid behind her ear. Scarlett wasn't convinced, uncertainty still present in her expression.

"This isn't America, darling. Now go get your shoes--we're burning daylight." 

****

Hours later, the sun sat high in the sky. Fred and Scarlett had been walking a while, Fred leading the way and occasionally referring to a map that was enchanted to show their location. Scarlett followed behind him, her mind distant. They didn't exchange many words, only checking in with each other occasionally or asking for water. 

Scarlett liked the quiet. When it was quiet, she could hear the birds that sang in the trees above them and the rustle of wind through the leaves. When it was quiet she could think. She could return to past moments and turn them over for every little thing.

The sun fought its way through the lush leaves, patches warming Scarlett as her ears detected running water. A few moments later, they had come across a rather large waterfall and stream. Fred and Scarlett stopped, Fred tossing off the bag and sitting on a nearby rock. He ran a hand through his hair and revealed the glass jug that held their water.

"You alright?" Fred breathed, a light sheen of sweat across his brow. Scarlett nodded, pulling her braid to the side and leaning against a cold rock. 

"We used to do this a lot when I was a kid--just disappear into the woods for days," Scarlett clarified when Fred gave her a confused look. He took a heavy sip of water, Scarlett watching his throat move at the motion. He lowered the bottle and handed it to her, Scarlett grateful for the magic that kept it always filled and cold. 

"Are those your favorite memories with them?" Fred asked as Scarlett caped the bottle and placed it on the ground beside her. She contemplated his words for a moment, her hands folded. Lately, Scarlett had trouble with memories. 

They were muddled--some she even wondered if they were real. She recalled all those summer trips she spent with her family--everyone except Victoria who was always conveniently locked away at Magemont. She remembered asking her father if Victoria could join them and his gentle response explaining that she wouldn't like it. Scarlett thought that was stupid now, being that Victoria always begged her to tell her about the woods. Scarlett cursed herself, wishing she had pursued the inclusion of Victoria further.

"I guess. It's getting harder and harder to remember them--sometimes it feels like they weren't even real." Scarlett said, her eyes fixed on a lump of moss by her shoe. Fred stood, walking over to her. He took her hands in his, Scarlett surprised at the action. She tore her eyes away from the moss and met his gentle green ones.

"What goes on in that beautiful head of yours?" Fred requested, his deep eyes studying her as she rested her head back against the rock. Scarlett considered the truth but knew it would only make him worry more. His thumbs traced the scarred top of her hand, Scarlett fighting the urge to cringe.

"I'm thinking about how good that water feels. Or how if an animal crawls on me tonight I'm going to hex you." Scarlett commented, poking his side so his smile would return. She felt better when he was smiling. 

"You can't do magic outside of Hogwarts," Fred reminded as Scarlett scoffed.

"Then I'll do it the No-Maj way," Scarlett threatened as Fred laughed and shook his head. He released her hands, gesturing to the stream before turning his back to her. He then pulled his shirt over his head, Scarlett holding her breath as she watched him. She noted the freckles on his back--how they looked like the constellation map she had nearly botched on her Astronomy NEWT months before.

He then removed his pants, and before she could blink he had jumped straight in. Scarlett rushed over, watching the water bubble where he had landed. She leaned against the rock he had been sitting on and waited. Seconds later he surfaced, crying out in delight. He whistled, pushing his hair from his forehead as he trod water.

"Damn, that's nice," he called. Scarlett laughed and glanced sideways at the waterfall that couldn't be more than fifteen feet high. 

"You comin'? Fred asked, Scarlett surveying the base of the waterfall. She nodded, gesturing that she was going to go change. She stepped back and then heading through the trees. She came to a set of rocks, pulling herself up and weaving through the brush until she appeared at the top of the falls. 

She could see Fred, waiting for her as he leaned against a partially submerged rock. He was still unaware that she was above him. Scarlett then peeled off her clothes and shoes, leaving nothing but her undergarments. She prayed it wasn't too shallow at the base, took a deep breath, and then raced forward. 

A scream erupted from her lungs as weightlessness was replaced with frigid water. A little bit entered her nose, Scarlett noting the unmistakable smell of fresh mountain water. It brought her back to the days before things were difficult--before Victoria became a villain. She surfaced, having been able to kick-off of the slick, rocky bottom. 

"You're mad!" Fred cried, rushing over to her as Scarlett fought to keep herself afloat. She mirrored his wild grin, a shiver bolting down her spine at the thought of him being impressed by her. They made their way over to the shallower water, stopping when they could finally touch the bottom. 

"Come on over here," Fred said, taking her hand and pulling her towards the rock. When they reached it, Scarlett was out of breath, her arms aching as she slid onto the rock. Fred sat beside her, Scarlett leaning back on her elbows. 

"You glad you came?" Fred asked as she nodded. 

"Yeah, it reminds me of the first week we met. Remember?" Scarlett added as Fred widened his eyes in recognition. 

"What was it? Ah, the Moon Beetle we needed," Scarlett barked out a laugh, the sound echoing as Fred joined in. Their combined laughs only caused them to laugh more, Scarlett holding on to his arm fighting back tears.

"One of my finest ideas," Fred said proudly as Scarlett stopped and looked up at him. He was propped on his hand, looming over her. She dragged her eyes down his neck and chest. 

"Do you remember what you were thinking that day?" Scarlett asked, barely above a whisper as Fred gave her a crooked smile and nodded. 

"I do," Fred confirmed as he leaned closer. Scarlett locked his eyes with her green ones, watching water Drip from his hair. He was beautiful and raw--like a perfect memory. Fred bit his lip, dragging his hand down her arm. 

"Tell me," Scarlett begged as he chuckled. Then he leaned in, Scarlett taking in a sharp breath as he placed his lips on hers. Scarlett reacted, pulling him closer to her. Every time she kissed him it was like the first time. That feeling pitted in her stomach, but this time it was different. There weren't bystanders to watch. There weren't spectators to gawk at Scarlett's bare arms. They were alone--just the way she liked it.

Fred pulled away, Scarlett frowning. He pulled her forearm over fi him, his fingers tracing the raised skin. Fred then pressed his warm lips to her skin, a jolt racing through her body. "I love you."

Scarlett's breath hitched in her throat. It was the first time she had heard that word in so long. It was never a word used at Storm Hall. Gabriel used it once with Joyce, but that was it. Yet here it was--raw and real. "All of you."

Scarlett smiled, tilting his head back up to look at her. Fred pushed her hair from her face, his thumb tracing over her lips. 

"I love you too."


	3. Chapter Three

By the time they reached the towering structure, it was nearly sunset. Scarlett watched in awe as they neared the church, her mouth open as Fred helped her over a fallen log. Nature had reclaimed most of the crumbling stone, the sound of water trickling echoing from within. 

"It's beautiful," Scarlett said as they came to the entrance. Inside, only part of the stone roof still stood. The painted ceiling was faded after years of being exposed to the elements, yet Scarlett could still make out faces. The scene depicted was that of the crucifixion of Christ. Scarlett remembered how Cathy's grandmother had been so religious. How she had refused to speak to Cathy or her family when they had chosen to cultivate her gift. Further ahead, a gaping hole gave way to the rainbow sky, birds swooping down occasionally to catch insects. Inside, their voices echoed as they commented on the structure and the view. 

"Let's start a fire and get you warm," Fred said, gently rubbing Scarlett's arm. The action brought her back to earlier that day, her stomach fluttering. Scarlett nodded and took the beg from him, still staring up at the ceiling. An hour later, the only light came from a small camp lantern and a campfire Fred had pulled together in minutes. Scarlett and Fred sat bundled up beside each other in a quilt, sharing a small meal. 

"So we get back and we think all is good--Mum will never have to know. But of course, Mum knows," Fred explained as Scarlett nodded. She imagined Molly would have to be pretty omnipotent given the number of sons she had. Though she figured the only ones who gave the most trouble were Fred, George and Charlie.

"Your mom knows everything," she assured as Fred chuckled. 

"Then she flies out of nowhere--Scarlett I'm not kidding--and begins screaming at us about taking the car without a note. And you know what she has the nerve to say to Harry?" Fred said as Scarlett fought back a laugh at how animated he was. She watched him as he cleared his throat.

"No, what?" Scarlett prodded as she glanced back at the fire. She circled the beer bottle she held.

"Oh Harry, I don't blame you dear," Fred said, imitating his mother's feminine, matronly voice. Scarlett wheezed out a laugh, the sound echoing around the church as Fred joined in. She glanced up at him from her position against him and smiled. She didn't laugh much before she met him--but she liked it. 

"No one blames Harry. I bet he could kill the Minister of Magic and Dumbledore would find a way to make it not his fault," Scarlett shot as Fred laughed and gave her an incredulous look. 

"What?" Scarlett snapped back as Fred let out a scoff.

"You're one to talk! McGonagall's like your Dumbledore. That woman would take a curse for you," Fred commented, sipping his beer.

Scarlett tensed a bit, her fingers kneading a weft of the quilt as she studied a random crack on the wall across from her. She thought about everything that McGonagall did for her and then worry bolted through her. She didn't like the thought of McGonagall risking her own life to save hers. Scarlett's life certainly wasn't worth saving. In fact, when she thought about it, nothing she had done was worth preserving.

"You're doing it again," Fred said thoughtfully as he ran a hand through her wavy hair. Scarlett looked up at him with her brows furrowed. 

"You're drifting away from me," Fred said softly into the top of her head as Scarlett chuckled. She felt his lips on her head as he tightened his arms around her.

"I always am," she shot back as she shifted sideways and settled into the crook of his arm. For a while, they just sat there in silence. 

"Tell me something about you. Surely you've got a whole bunch of stories." Fred said, his voice echoing as Scarlett frowned. 

"Well, there was this one time my father was away on business, and Gabriel and I thought that we could ride the Chimera that my father had been rehabilitating." Fred's eyes widened as she continued. 

"Anyway, as soon as we got it out to the pasture that thing took off. Even Gabriel couldn't stop it--so we spent the entire day searching for that thing in the woods and you know we never found it," Scarlett said, looking at him. 

"So some poor Muggle hiker was dinner?" Fred shot as Scarlett playfully hit his arm. 

"Don't even go there, and oh my father was so mad when he got home. He never found out that it was Gabriel and me--we were gonna take that secret to the grave," As soon as Scarlett spoke she paused, realizing what she had said. She sucked in a breath, pushing her lips together as she blinked back tears. Before she could think of a way to change the conversation, Fred was shifting. 

Scarlett sat up, looking back at him just as he revealed something that glimmered in the firelight. Scarlett frowned, realizing it was a golden chain. Fred lifted it over her head and secured it around her neck, Scarlett glancing down at the pendant. 

"What's this?" Scarlett asked, studying the single, round gold pendant. Fred pushed his lips together, blush blossoming on his cheeks. 

"It's a new thing George and I have been working on--we plan to give a set to Bill and Fleur for the wedding," Fred added as Scarlett watched him. 

"When you touch the pendant, you can feel the heartbeat of a person who is wearing the mate." Scarlett gave him an awed look as he revealed a similar one that sat around his neck. Scarlett scoffed in disbelief as she raised her hand. 

"Yeah, just place your finger like this," Fred guided her index finger onto it, Scarlett waiting. Moments later, a beat pulsated through her fingertip. She gasped in delight, a pleased grin spreading across her face. 

"That's yours?" Scarlett asked as Fred nodded. Scarlett laced her other hand in his, squeezing it as she counted the beats. She remembered all the times his heartbeat had comforted her and wondered if he would ever know how much this meant to her.

"That's incredible," she breathed as Fred beamed at her. 

"I, uh, don't know what is going to happen in the future. With You-Know-Who and your sister. I just wanted a way for us to always be able to know the other is safe," Fred said, tracing his fingers along the inside of Scarlett's wrist. 

"It's wonderful, Fred. Really, I'll treasure it always." Scarlett said, pulling him into her. Fred's arms snaked around her as she breathed in his familiar scent. She tested her face in the crook of his neck, feeling his pulse in her cheek. She marveled at the thought of being loved enough to warrant a gift like that--of being needed. At that moment, she had everything she wanted--always.


	4. Chapter Four

"Oh Scarlett, play that tune I like," McGonagall requested from her rocking chair by the hearth. Scarlett looked over at her from the piano bench, glancing past Fred who was reading the newest installment of 101 Jokes for Wizards. Scarlett had been staring at the keys for ten minutes, wanting to play but not knowing what. She recalled the last time she had played, Draco and his mother's waltz ghosting through her mind's eye. 

McGonagall gave her a pressing look as she retreated to her sewing. Scarlett glanced at Fred--her mind flipping back to their trip the week before. She turned back around, her face flooding red at the thought of their activities that they hadn't had a chance to re-engage in. Scarlett began to play, her fingers dancing over the keys as she recalled yet another tune from her childhood, smiling at it's familiarity.

"Professor, Scarlett is never going to learn to dance for the wedding if she's always playing," Fred pointed out as Scarlett rolled her eyes and continued. 

"Scarlett is a fine dancer. If I recall, Fred, it was you who almost dropped Angelina Johnson at the Yule Ball," At the mention of her name, Scarlett missed a note but soon recovered as McGonagall recounted Fred's mishap. Fred sat up straighter, a scandalized look on his face.

"I am a lovely dancer Professor," Fred defended as Scarlett glanced back at him and laughed into her shoulder. 

"Alright then, let's see it," Scarlett dared, a mischievous glint in her eye as McGonagall put her sewing to the side and stood. Fred looked between the two with a confused expression. 

"Don't keep the lady waiting Fred!" Scarlett teased as Fred gave her a look before standing. 

"Alright, put your hand in my waist," McGonagall said as Fred gave her a look.

"You heard her Fred," Scarlett shot as Fred glared at her before placing one hand in McGonagall's waist and the other in her outstretched hand. 

"If you mention any of this to-" 

"Oh, hush" McGonagall cried as Scarlett laughed. 

They began to move, Fred teasing McGonagall on her need to lead and McGonagall commenting on their differences in height. Fred cracked a joke, Scarlett only knowing from the sound of McGonagall laughing--something she hadn't heard before. Scarlett's hands danced over the keys like she was in a trance, her mind wandering as she began to zone out. When Scarlett came to, she was no longer in the cozy, cramped cottage.

Scarlett was in the parlor in Storm Hall, her much smaller hands playing a simpler tune. She looked up, jumping as two eyes peeked out at her from around the doorframe. 

"Victoria," Scarlett breathed, her hands falling to her side. Victoria stepped out, her simple dress rustling in the breeze from the open window. Outside, her mother collected apples from a tree in the front yard--having instructed Scarlett to play while she was gone. 

"You're good--not as good as Gabriel, but good," Victoria remarked, leaning against the side of the upright piano as Scarlett's eyes narrowed. 

"You think you can do better? Please." Scarlett gestured to the piano, Victoria rolling her eyes and giving her a look before sliding onto the piano bench next to her. 

"You are always so persistent," Victoria commented as Scarlett stuck her tongue out at her. Victoria placed her hands on the keys and played a few off-tune notes. 

"No, no that's A," Scarlett said, gently shifting her finger to the side. Victoria went to tease her but stopped, playing the chord again. 

"Better, now try the next set," Scarlett said, unsure of the interaction she was having. Normally, Victoria would lash out at any correction. This time she listened, playing the first six notes of the lullaby with ease. 

"You're another Gabriel. Can I ever have anything of my own?" Scarlett asked, running her hands down her face as her elbows played a few sour chords. Victoria laughed, the sound filling her ears. Scarlett went to tell her to stop--that it was true. She opened her eyes and froze as her mother stood in the foyer. Victoria didn't notice her until she caught Scarlett's pale, worried face. 

"What are you doing out of your room?" Winifred asked, her voice even and cool. Scarlett's pulse quickened as she fought to concoct a lie her mother would believe. 

"I heard Scarlett's playing. It's so--" 

"Get back to your room Victoria," Winifred commanded, rushing forward and slamming the lid of the piano down. She would have broken Scarlett's fingers if she hadn't ripped them away at the last minute. 

"NOW!" she boomed, Scarlett and Victoria scampering away like scared animals. 

Scarlett came back to the present, the feeling of warm hands on her shoulders startling her. She jolted, her back slamming into Fred's torso as he looked at her with worry. 

"Scarlett? Can you hear me?" Fred asked as Scarlett frowned up at him. 

"Yeah?" she shot, confused as she glanced over at McGonagall who watched from the corner of the piano. 

"What happened? Did I mess up the song?" Scarlett asked absently as she replayed the memory as if she had just seen it. 

"No, not at all. You just stopped playing--locked up." McGonagall explained as Scarlett dropped her eyes, shaking her head. 

"I'm tired. I think I'll head to bed." Scarlett refused Fred's assistance as she walked to the ladder, pulled herself up to the loft, and settled into their bed. She pulled the quilt over herself, her body aching. 

"How often has that been happening?" she heard McGonagall ask as she retreated back to her rocking chair. She heard Fred groan, certain he had stretched. 

"Been happening more than it should--she just zones out," Fred commented as she heard him close his book and set it down on the mantle. She imagined him running a hand down his face as McGonagall's rocking chair began to gently thud on the stone floor. "I feel like I can't reach her when she gets like that,"

"Do you think it has something to do with Victoria?" McGonagall asked as Fred shook his head. 

"I dunno, but I do know that I'm not gonna let it take her," Fred said, Scarlett's stomach dropping. She knew he was talking about the prophecy--about the fate that was bearing down on her. She shivered and snuggled deeper under the quilt, squeezing her eyes shut as the fire crackled.

"That, Fred, is something you and I can actually agree on."


End file.
